it's not fair. But one thing I've always believed, and still believe, is that to the people who matter and who i care about, it doesn't matter what i look like. My boyfriend always thinks i'm beautiful, even if my hair is unbrushed and my legs are unshaven and im wearing dirty clothes.

my parents love me no matter what i look like.

my friends? same thing.

so yeah it's annoying when i am having a good hair day or my jeans fit just right and then i walk into a store and see a copy of Cosmo and some girl has HUGE and totally PERFECT breasts and a really nice butt and perfect skin and i'm like "damn, why can't i look like that?" and then for the rest of the day i feel like crap. but that's just because i'm a girl, and that's part of the curse i think.

but it all comes down to this: to the people who love you, you will always be beautiful. and their opinion is the one you should be worried about anyway. :)

Jasmine and Marie are two girls in my Dance Anatomy and Ballroom Dance class.

Jasmine looks like Jasmine from the Disney movie (only she's not a slut).

Marie is…well… she's hilarious, a theater major, has a great sense of humor, and is totally obsessed with black or dark men. (we decided this is because she had a black doll as a kid instead of a Ken doll, because it was cheaper).

Neither of them are saved. They like me a lot, and invite me to do stuff with them, which is a weird new experience for me.

I'm working with Marie on our dance project. She'll be fun to work with.

Anyway, I'm hoping I get a chance to witness to them. Pray for them, and for me, that I won't be afraid.

As a side note, My African Lit teacher is letting us do an essay about a movie with african themes, and one of the movies she's letting us pick from is Curious George!

Stupdi is a word I made up (by accident). It means the same as stupid, but it's more of a silly kind of stupid.

Every trial has a reason and a lesson. I'm trying to figure out why God wanted me to sprain my ankle.

Possibly because I hate accepting things from people. I hurt myself because I didn't want to accept a ride home from Jasmine's boyfriend. Mind you, he was taking care of a sick drunk, and I thought it would be rude to leave his girlfriend alone with a guy who could throw up at any time, but still.

and now, I have one leg, and I'm screwed. I'm forced to accept people's help.

Or maybe it's something else. I don't know, I haven't figured it out yet. But I'm looking, because I feel like if I don't learn anything from this trial, it's a waste of my time.

Say I work for an employer. That employer firmly believes that birth control is a sin, and that women who are using it so they can have sex without getting pregnant are sinning. (which, mind you, is totally unbiblical.) That employer could legally get the information me, ask me to get a doctor's note saying that I don't take it so I can have as much guilt-free sex as I want, and if I can't get that note,

he can legally fire me.

Their reasoning? it's against the employer's first amendment rights to his freedom of religion.

This is why it's wrong:

1. We have the freedom of religion, but not the freedom to impress our religion on other people.

Basically, that employer would be pushing is beliefs on her, and taking legal action against her because of it. That is unconstitutional.

2. We have freedom of speech, the press, and religion, but NOT the "freedom to not be offended."

If something offends you, I'm sorry! get over yourself. I go to college, I see crap that offends me all the time. I offend people all the time. They don't sue me.

3. She has freedoms too.

My mom—and my grandma, and my Criminal Justice teacher, and almost every other important person I've ever met—says "your rights end where mine begin." He can't take her rights away and step into her personal space just because he feels like it. the moment he throws away regard for her rights and her freedom, he looses privileges to his own.

:D John, sunday before Labor day this past year. we were sitting in the car (note; If you don't want to kiss a boy, don't sit in a car with him) and i kissed his cheek, and he turned his face one me :P then... we sort of made out. yeah. it was interesting. just fyi kissing is wayyyy awkward.

these steps are easier said than done. I understand that. But I've been thinking about this for a while, and although I'm not an expert, I just feel like ranting today.

basically, the government is doing some stupid things, we as people are doing stupid things.

so here are my thoughts.

do tell me what you think.

stop buying things from China

have the criminals in our system build factories (this will keep them busy and replace the factories from China)

have the criminals build a wall around the USA so immigrants can't sneak in.

Provide a way for illegal immigrants to become legal citizens. This process will include learning the language and passing a language test, sending the children to our schools, and the men over age 18 will serve in the military for 4+ years. Then they can become legal citizens and they will have earned their stay.

the unemployed of America –not the criminals—can work in the factories. No experience required, and it will be a job that will give the experience required to get a new job.

the government will get their hands out of our school systems. the schools will get a certain amount of money, and then the schools will have their own policies about EVERYTHING. also: parents can choose which school to send their kids too, whether or not they live nearby.

teachers pay will be doubled, if not raised even more than that. the jobs will be more competitive, and our kids will actually get an education.

congressmen should get paid less, and have to pay taxes, and take care of their own retirement plans, and buy their own health insurance etc.

the government should stay out of health insurance. end of conversation.

stop sending help and financial aid out of the country. natural disasters are terrible. but that's not their job: that's the church's job.

Patriarchy: man-lead society (which is the way it's supposed to be, right?)

well, yes. But in our culture, Patriarchy means anti-women. It used to mean man-lead, now it means woman-bashing.

In our society women have lower rights. not less, but lower. we make less money. we're looked down on in some situations. I hears about a woman who, when she was working as an engineer, she got more respect when she pretended to be clueless and need help than when she acted like she understood the situation as well as the men.

Is this right? is it wrong?

well, it's not fair. but is it okay?

maybe.

First of all, what are our roles as women?

to train up and care for our children

to respect and build up our husbands

to care for our home

to do whatever specific thing God wants us to do.

Should women be able to vote?

perhaps. Now I'm not saying women should loose their voting rights. But I feel like since men are supposed to lead the household, shouldn't there be one vote per household? if a woman is single and living and taking care of herself, she should vote. If she's living with her father or husband, maybe she shouldn't. maybe it should be one vote per household.

I am doing a French presentation about Nature Writing, so I decided the best way to learn about it was to go do it.

This is the result.

It’s been a long time.

I haven’t written in ages. I’ve been focused on knitting and crocheting, because it makes me money. Writing doesn’t. Yet. Still working on that.

The whole way up here, my mind has been churning—I’ll write about this, and that. What a pretty sound. The grass is so green here.

Now that I’m here, nothing important comes to mind.

It’s a beautiful place: quiet, for a college campus. Probably only because it’s break and there’s only a few dozen people here. There’s a sound of some sort of electrical factory equipment far off in the distance, and every once in a while I hear the chirp of a utility van go by.

I hear the wind approach, like the enemy in the battle, slowly stirring up sound and getting louder as it gets closer. It brushes the leaves and moves the grass before it dances through my hair and tickles my skin.

Where I am is like a pelvis. It’s a bowl-shaped valley, small, but photography tricks could make it look endless because of the shapes of the hills and the positioning of the trees. There is a stone wall surrounding the quarters of the valley—the iliac crest—and stone steps in the middle where the wall joins, leading back up to the real world—the symphosis pubis.

Anatomically, I sit in the sacrum.

It’s a small foot bridge made of stone, a little bit of a slant, and curls connecting the handrail to the stone. Only two feet off the ground at the highest point, it leads from one hill—well, lump—to the other. It doesn’t join anything, it doesn’t protect from anything.

Does it serve a purpose?

Does the tailbone serve a purpose?

The girl who told me about The Bridge to Nowhere is a nutrition major, she said it was near the nutrition building, and that’s all I knew about where it was. I’d lived in Buchanan, one of the dorms in upper campus, for a semester. But I’d never gone to this side of upper campus: I’d had no reason to. Walking up to Buchanan the way I used to made me miss living there. I missed the beauty, the wind, the trees, the solitude, the fifteen minute hike to get to classes. I almost wanted to move back—then I remembered they didn’t have single rooms, private bathrooms, or kitchens. So that idea went out the window.

I found the bridge. {girl}had said she used to go up there and sit and listen to God, and pray. It sounded like a lovely place to explore on a boring windy dark day all alone on campus.

{boy} said the LARPers met here for tournaments and battles, or something. I’d seen some pictures, and I knew it was beautiful, but I didn’t know it was quite this symbolic.

At least, I found it to be symbolic. Symbolic of someone I love.

I was pretty sure nature writing was about looking at God’s creation and trying to see His glory, and power in it. I still think that’s true. Why else write about art but to worship the artist?

But the bridge made me think about trials, hard times, warfare, like {boy}'sLARP battles. Spiritual battles God puts in our lives. Sometimes they don’t look like they’re important, sometimes they look like one more pointless hoop to jump through, one more hill to hike up, one more bridge to cross. They feel like they’re just stupid things that are in our lives for no reason.

But the tailbone is there for a reason. It took us a while to figure out why we have one. It turns out we have ligaments attached to this “useless remains of evolution” and if you didn’t have one, you wouldn’t be able to stand up, sit down, walk, lay down… basically, you couldn’t go anywhere.

Maybe this was a pointless bridge, totally useless to some people, like the people who built it there. They were probably thinking “why in hell are we building a bridge that doesn’t have water or thorns or lava under it?”

But it served as a quiet place for {girl}. A battle field for {boy}.

A man who was betrayed, broken, wrongly accused, thrown in jail, and then forced to remember the unfair sin against him every day for the rest of his life may spend his days trying to understand why he was forced to cross this bridge. And he may never know. But maybe it serves as something higher and better. Maybe it’s a blessing, a lesson, a way to worship God, not to the one who was broken, but to someone else.

Does God do stuff like that?

I heard the rain before I felt it. It fell on the leaves and made a sound a child taking off his swimsuit, and letting the sand from the beach fall into the bathtub or onto the kitchen floor.

I snapped my notebook shut and threw everything into my bag, and headed up the hill towards the symphosis pubis. The steps were obnoxiously steep, and I was out of breath by the time I got up. I sighed at the trees, wishing I could be as beautiful as them in their death. I started the long walk back down to my dorm.

I stopped to pick some little purple flowers, and then went into a café I’d never been to before. Now I sit in a window seat eating a pastry and sipping a bad latte, waiting for my Love to text me, telling me he’s finally here on campus after two months of not seeing each other, to see me, to hold me, to kiss me, to remind me of the Glory and fulfilled promises of my highest Father.

I will take him to The Bridge to Nowhere, to the tailbone of the valley, and maybe he’ll remember that sometimes things that seem pointless really serve a greater purpose—if only for future joy.

About

I'm a ballerina, a writer, a blogger, a dreamer, a princess, a beggar, a loner, a dependent, a leader, a submitter, a jerk, a romantic, a lover, a hater, a sinner, a redeemed, and everything in between.
This is the story of my life. All of it is true, but none of the names are real.
If something is re-blogged, re-posted, or quoted, you will know.

Posts you should check out (if all else fails and my humor sucks today)